


We Can Try Together

by trianglechan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trianglechan/pseuds/trianglechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The face of one the scariest Western horror movies is similar to that of (L/N) (F/N), who is completely unaware of the coincidence. Only one person dares to go near her within school. Kozume Kenma, Nekoma's setter. Meeting by accident, their terrorising hormones begin to get the better of them before they realise their true feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> (F/N) - First Name
> 
> (L/N) - Last Name
> 
> This is my first Haikyuu!! fan fiction, so please let me know if anyone's too out of character or something. Kenma's my favourite so it was a dead giveaway that I needed to do this. Please don't be mean but do give constructive criticism.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The hallway was desolate during the afternoon on a Friday. People were slowly shedding off most of their school related issues by the last lesson. A lone female student made her way towards an a small classroom near a small flight of stairs. Her feet were heavy with insomnia and her bag was slung lazily over her right shoulder. The girl’s uniform looked out of place with all the other girls that milled around the school. Peering eyes watched as she trudged past another classroom. Teachers disregarded her appearance as long as her grades were good or if there were no important visitors currently surveying the school. A ghostly presence was enough to make anyone leave the person alone. Especially at lunch… 

“(L/N), you're late again. Please stay behind at the end of class. We need to have a talk about your attendance.” A set of beady eyes peered over the rim of his wireframe glasses lightly perched on the teacher’s nose.

The girl only nodded slightly in response and sighed before moving to her seat at the heart of the classroom. Several people fidgeted in their seats when she sat down. A tall boy with hair amuck edged his chair away from the poor girl. It was like she was a magnet or a skunk, always repulsing people away from her. A sad tale, almost like ones form those awful bullying commercials. A few snickers emitted from the back of the classroom. Soon after that, the girl felt a burst of light tappings against her head. Paper balls littered the floor. A rag tag group of students from the back row had torn up a sheet of the school newspaper and began firing them at the victim’s head. The teacher, of course, was oblivious to this.

After the final bell rang, the class began to pack up and disperse in their little cliques. The messy student, after tidying up the ammunition fired at her,stood in front of the teacher’s desk once more. A deja vu moment.

“I’ve noticed that you seem frightened about working with other students. If you ever want to make it in the real world, (L/N) (F/N), you need to suck up your pride and do the things you hate. Got it?” The plump man sat stiffly on the authorised of his large desk. “Also, you seem indifferent to things going on around you and this worries me greatly. I expect you to take some responsibility of your well being before coming into my classroom like this

The female sullenly nods her head. She stares down at her worn out shoes. A small charm dangles off her bag’s zipper, limply hitting her forearm.

“I’m letting you off a detention but I am going to refer you to the school therapist on Monday during lunch period. You may go now.”

“…Thank you, sir.” And with that, (F/N) began her lonely walk home. The same shops and houses with the same old residents. The route she took was around the scenic parts of the school ground before walking out onto a beautiful street. She would always receive a fresh apple or small carton of juice from the daughter of a stall owner that sits outside the museum of oddities about ten minutes from the school gate. She had never been inside the actual store but hoped to venture inside one day.

But, this time, things were disrupted by a broken pipeline that traced the usual route. The girl was forced either cut straight through the school building and get dragged into one of the many needy clubs or she could briskly pass the gym and cut about five minutes out from her travels. In the end, she had settled with the latter choice.  
Loud shouts came from the gym. She veered away from the gaping door before sprinting to the gate. An elderly teacher was taken back by how fast she moved. Three blocks later, the girl had realised she had missed out of speaking to the daughter of the museum owner. It was the true highlight of her day. To experience some friendly human contact. Carefully reaching into her bag’s side pocket, the girl revealed some money. ¥465, enough to buy her some hot food at a small shop a street away. She quickened her pace, knowing that most of the good things would be gone if she took any longer. Just before the girl entered the store, she was thrown to the pavement by two boys wearing the school’s red volleyball outfit. They seemed to be fighting over what seemed to be the last warm pork bun produced in the shop for that night. After being thrown aside, the (F/N) didn't feel like eating anymore. More volleyball players ensued till the entire team and its reserves stood around the two fighting males. A few of the group noticed (F/N) and moved away, casting repelling glances. Only one remained close. But by the time she had registered the lingering sportsman, her mind begged for solitude. As she stood and ran, her small charm became caught on the shortest player’s jacket sleeve, the one who dared go near her. In a flurry of hand movements, (F/N) was unable to detach the keychain, leaving it behind in a flurry of nearly inaudible ‘sorry’ s and bows. The rest of the volleyball team was on edge after she had left.

“Kenma! Did she touch you?!” Players had long since forgotten the fight and began to check on their setter, who was confused by all the fuss.

He sighed, before turning to face his teammates. “Why, whats wrong with her?” The short boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unable to place a name to the girl who had ran away a few minutes ago.

Kuroo grabbed his friend by the shoulders before adjusting himself to his friend’s height. His eyes showed betrayed the stoic exterior. “Don't you know? She supposedly a cursed girl from the dead! You make eye contact and she eats your soul without you noticing. Real scary stuff. Theres a stall in the girl’s bathroom and shower room that reserved just for her. Use by mistake and consider yourself dead!”

The surrounding boys nodded in unison. Someone in the huddle piped up. “Steer clear of her! It's for your own good.”

“…I find that really stupid. She seemed fine to me.” Kenma refused to believe such a stupid bullying tactic. He knew that she had a similar face to that of the latest horror movie that the students of his school and several others had been banned from seeing. Just thinking about the correlation made him cringe internally.

After an small dispute within the team about what could be scarier than (F/N), they began to move away from the shop. As the group turned a corner, Kenma produced the keychain from his pocket. It was a small star with various pastel coloured letters spelling out a name. A small tear in his sports jumper had appeared after the girl had tried to free it. He ran his finger over it before bringing his attention back to the keychain.

“(F/N).” He muttered the name under his breath and a small smile danced across his face. His cat-like eyes sparkled playfully while scanning in every detail of the keychain before putting it into his bag’s side pocket. Despite his friend’s warning, he was determined to give the keychain back to the girl, and hopefully and, not impossibly, become her friend.


	2. Rain And Romance

(F/N)’s weekend was like sand in a hour glass. Slow. She wanted to go back to school only to learn and excel, not to see her classmates. The avoidance had grown her as a shield against the toxic proximity of relationships. Platonic or otherwise. After the meeting with the school therapist, she felt no closer to opening up and admitting her lack of self care. Staying up late with needless cramming. Getting up early to revise more and arriving late at the lesson because she has no way of making people let her through the traffic in the hallway’s. Her uniform was neat and crisp at the start of the day but slowly it became a mess. Usually, boys from other years would extract money from her on a weekly basis and the teachers were none the wiser when (F/N) had bruises and black eyes adorning her body.

Lessons on a Monday seemed quicker than usual and before the girl knew it, students were filing out of the school gates. Storm clouds had cropped up and began to steadily torment the students. (F/N) could spot members of the volleyball team jostling each other joking while they merge with the tight knot of umbrella-wielding students. The locker room quietened down, which was when she decided to go home herself. One of the boys from the ordeal on Friday stood outside with clenched fist by his side, his other hand clutched his black umbrella. This boy could usually be found with a third year on his team, screwing around with a device and only replying in mumbles and murmurs. (F/N) knew him from Math class. His name was Kozume Kenma, a second year like her. Kenma caught eye of (F/N) digging around in her shoulder bag. She had left her own umbrella at home, right next to her lunch and money for dinner, all of which she had not brought with her today. Her shoulders tensed up when her sensed the boy looking at her. (F/N) thought of all the unlikely possibilities that could occur. The only one she didn't take into account was Kenma wanting to be friends. Building up small pockets of courage, she walked towards the school’s door, bracing herself against small droplets of rain. As the girl walked to the edge of the shelter hanging above the school entrance, she felt a presence lingering not too far behind her.

‘The small boy from Friday… What would he want?’ (F/N)’s heart leap into her throat while her body tensed. The situations that she had conjured in the locker room began to swirl around her thoughts. She swayed slightly, unable to hear one thought at a time. Like a jury all shouting guilty, she felt like a criminal of a crime unknown to her.

As opposed to the usual bandits, a slight smile graced his face. “Sorry to scare you. I wanted to give you this…” His clenched fist revealed (F/N)’s star keychain. When she got home on Friday, she had disregarded it’s whereabouts and accepted it was the price to pay for running into him. “I wanted to give it back to you. And make sure you were okay.” A small red hue congregated as a small strip running from one cheek to another.

She hesitatingly took the keychain, (F/N) returned the gesture with a small nod. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, causing a stifled laugh from Kenma. Quickly she stuffed it into the pocket of her blazer, not daring to dwell on it. Not daring to smile. Internally, she was taken aback by how kind he was. She expected some kind of ransom, not a smiling boy risking his health for the sake of getting it back to her in one piece. Needless to say the act of kindness was alien to her.  
“…Thanks.” Those were the only words she could manage without stuttering. 

He looked kind of cute to (F/N) with his hair plastered down with rain. He must have stood out here for a while before he got his umbrella. (F/N) looked down at the shorter boy, a feeling of strange origin welling up in the pit of her stomach. She felt.. happy. The height difference was noticeable and so was the hormonal chemistry happening between the two, at that very moment. Kenma raised his umbrella above the taller girl’s head, slightly struggling to reach that high. 

“Do you want help that?” (F/N) emitted a small giggle before covering her mouth. It’d been so long since she laughed in front of another student. Last time she did, people were disappointed. A rumour had spread that flames erupted from her mouth if you managed to make her laugh. To think that people believed that made her lose faith in ever coming out of shell.

Kenma nodded before the red hue increased in intensity. He mumbled something before handing his umbrella towards (F/N). The two walked side by side, huddled under the umbrella. They were one of the last students to leave that didn't have clubs after school. It turned out that Kenma used the train station that was five minutes away from (F/N)’s house, meaning they would walk for most of the journey together. The first five minutes of the walk was spent with both of the students listening to the steady drone of the rain. Through the silence, Kenma would cast cautious glances up at (F/N) often focusing on the small smile and the hinted blush that decorated her face. Suddenly, Kenma let out a small sneeze, although it sounded more like a squeak. He had caught a cold during his time waiting. In response, he just covered his face and hoped that she didn't hear it. Instead of the nothingness he expected, Kenma felt something warm wrapping around his shoulders. (F/N) wrapped her blazer around him. It was several sizes too big on him but still warm from wearing it. Kenma looked up once more, only to be met by (F/N)’s face cradling her blushing face in her hands. He could see the corners of her mouth peaked up into a smile and couldn't help but join her. To any passerby that came near, they were the very definition of a cute couple. In reality it was a dream between the two. They talked about everything and anything.

“How come everyone thinks you’re… cursed? It quite stupid.” Kenma had very few class and tended to space himself from rumours and gossip. The incident outside the store was the first time he had found out about the alienation of (F/N), though you would call it bullying in any other case.

The taller girl shrugged her shoulders before her face was overtook by a look of melancholy. “I guess I never really had any friends ‘cause I always pushed people away. Always worried of hurting them. Besides, being as tall as some of the boys on your volleyball team was fuel for the fire. Made people think I was a giant or something strange.. Not one of the petite girls that can fit into anything they pleased. After that annoying horror movie popped up, I had no real space to debunk the streams of trash that people made up. They kept coming up with wild fantasies. One of the kids from the coding club started a class chat with everyone but me in there. It's basically the place where all those stupid theories came to life. True be told… I hate horror movies.” She gave out a small chuckle before gripping onto the handle of the umbrella tighter. Her knuckles whitened.

It was clear to Kenma why (F/N) became invisible. She was a gentle giant. Someone who didn't fit into the mould of the nice girl she was. Changing the subject came to mind. “What do your parents do for a living? Mine are in accounting. they always seem to… well… leave me to my own devices.” He looked at his shoes, not wanting to keep up the sorrowful atmosphere.

(F/N) looked out into the rain soaked street before looking down at her free hand. “They both wanted different paths in life. Hence their divorce. Mom manages an insurance firm while Dad a hippie of sorts.” A smile appeared on her face. “They both show their affection in the strangest of ways. One time Dad took me to a battery farm full of puppies and freed them all for my ninth birthday. Mom wouldn't let me see him for three months!” Her grip on the handle eased.

They continued to talk. The time where the duo spilt came almost unexpectedly. (F/N) took back her blazer and gave Kenma back his umbrella. Before he left, she told him to wait outside her house. She sprinted inside and rummaged around for a few minutes before she reappeared with a coat. Kenma took it gratefully and waved goodbye. As he approached the train station, his friend, Kuroo was asleep on a bench inside. A drying umbrella was lying next to him. Kenma couldn't believe his friend hadn't gone home yet. He shoved his friend slightly. Kuroo stirred slightly before waking up. Groggily, he stretched and turn to the second year.

“What took you so long?” The third year smirked. “I kept calling you. It’s kinda strange when you don't pick up straight away like you usually do.”

Kenma was completely unaware of hie friend’s attempts. He searched his blazer pockets before bringing out his phone. Having the coat on top of his blazer made incredibly hard to reach around. As he turned it on, a notification read: ‘100 MISSED TEXTS’ and ’11 MISSED CALLS’.  
While he met his new friend, Kenma didn't want to get the temptation of going on his phone, thus why he resorted to turning it off completely. Fully aware that (F/N) shared a handful of classes with Kuroo (Due to him skipping a lot of classes in his second year), he found it hard to come up with an alibi.

Kuroo pointed at coat. “Nice girl coat!” 

“…Shut up.”

“Oh c’mon! Where’d you get it? Mommy lend it to ya?” He playfully smiled at his younger friend. He added: “A lil’ birdie told me you walked home with (F/N). Is that where you got the coat?”

Caught red handed. Heat rose to Kenma’s as he tried to dig himself out of this situation. “So?”

“So?! Dude, you're hanging out with someone who isn't on the volleyball team. And its not one of those creepy AI chicks from those games you play!” The raven haired boy ruffles his friends hair. “I suppose having a haunted chick as your girlfriend won’t be too bad actually.”

“She’s not haunted…”

“Maybe.”

“…And we’re not dating.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it!”

“Shut up, Kuroo.”


	3. It’s Not Too Hard, Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (F/C) - favourite colour

The weekend was just around the corner once more. For all the other students in Kenma, it was the same boring routine. Homework, cram school. Nothing new. The setter, on the other hand, felt his heart hammering away. A date… with an actual girl. Well, she didn't know it was a date. Neither did Kuroo, who was tagging along too. It took four days since the coat incident to ask her. (F/N) was speechless when Kenma asked, unsure if this was some sort of elaborate prank. It was a shame she jumped to that conclusion first. Hours drained by as the teachers came and left. Before they all knew it, the students were gifted a weekend. Volleyball practice seemed so slow compared to the rest of the day. Each gruelling toss and serve made the quiet boy less and less eager for tomorrow. It sounds quite contradictory but the reality was that school work distracted him but volleyball made his mind wander. And this led to mountains of things that could go wrong. The thing that stuck out the most to him was something he had overlooked earlier: what they were going to do. The hype was really on Kenma asking (F/N) to hang out. After practice, Kuroo began to brainstorm the possible locations that she would enjoy. He took the news of Kenma’s crush pretty well. Being childhood friends had almost numbed the two of surprises. Although, every time the girl’s name was mentioned, Kuroo flinched slightly.

“Some café? Look, I’ve never had a girl who’s this hard to understand. She’s like the scariest equivalent to math.” The bedhead finally admitted his defeat.

The shorter of the two understood the huge differences between the girl protagonists from otome and ones in real life. Instead of the easy to read personality options (shy, boisterous, boastful, hard-to-get), real girls were on a spectrum of unreadable. Though, (F/N) experienced the same problems in parallel. Clothes, as stereotypically idiotic as it sounded, were her problem. No fancy labels or cute outfits. Just some clothes she uses to run down the supermarket and get the groceries. Loungewear would look way too out of place. Love makes you do crazy things was far from an understatement. In under an hours, a high schooler that closely resembles a horror movie antagonist rushed from store to store, in the hope that they’ll carry something cute. She wanted to impress him after all. Finally, she settled on a fairly cheap but nice get-up. Pastel colours that complimented her natural appearance. A sigh of relief could be audibly heard as the cashier handed her the bag and change. 

*******************

(F/N) was ten minutes behind her schedule. If her mom hadn't spontaneously come back from her work trip, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Slipping on her shoes, she ran down the road, narrowly avoiding neighbours and pedestrians. The train left in seven minutes and she hadn't even told Kenma about her delay. (F/N) had no real need for a phone due to her futile attempts at socialising. So, it was pure luck that she only just met the other two before the train left. Sitting down next to a dozing businessman, (F/N) dabbed at her forehead with a handkerchief. A small damp spot on the fabric made her realise that PE was something of a blessing in situations like hers. Shame exercise was way too much effort. For the forty minutes the three sat on the train, Kenma couldn't help but notice (F/N) trying to conceal the effort it took to get on the train in time. When a seat freed up near the girl, Kuroo immediately sat down in it. Not because he wanted to anger his friend, but because he was sitting next to an completely disgusting old man who couldn't eat his fast food silently and cleanly. The train pulled into the town station. Getting up, the shortest of three students got off the train first, stretching his stiff limbs as his two friends got off. People buzzed up and down the platform. Some carried copious amounts of shopping bags while others waited for the arrival of friends and family. It was a normal day in Tokyo.

As they regrouped, Kenma instinctively pulled out his phone. Old habits die hard. The bedhead snatched it out of his hand before giving a stern and father-like look. “You’re the leader here. I don't know where we’re going and neither does your girlfriend…” He motioned his free hand to the tall girl that stood across from the two of them. 

(F/N) smiled sheepishly on cue. She missed the way Kuroo referred to her, a white pigeon distracted her from the two boys. “Maybe we could walk around? Then we could find something we all like!”

‘With a smile like that,’ Kenma thought. ‘I’d open my wallet and let you take what you want…’

The crowd seemed to thicken. Trains looked almost sagged under the strain of its passengers, letting off a whistle of relief as it sped out of the station. (F/N) was getting jostled about more than the other two. After a rushing mother and child sent her sprawling, she latched onto Kenma’s arm to steady herself. The world seemed to slow down to the setter. A new splash of colour that updated the dull one he had lived with before. Recomposing herself, (F/N) fixed her outfit. Instead of standing where she was before, she stood by Kenma. Kuroo could feel the awkwardness radiating off the potential couple. 

“All they needed was a little push and they'll be on their merry way to be the school’s next big obsession.” The bedhead thought. A smirk graced his lips as he watched his best friend squirm each time he brushes against his crush. 

The trio ambled down the least crowded streets possible. Kuroo lingered behind Kenma and (F/N), noting all the small interactions between the two. Both of the second years’ hands brushed together occasionally, as if they backed out at the last minute. It was fairly painful. Like someone printing there face on a tank top and wearing it openly and non-ironically in public. There wasn't mush he could do. Kenma and his crush were like startled deer, only a small danger to scatter. The third year would need to be subtle if he were to interfere. A large arcade loomed at the end of this particular street. As if by called by name, Kenma felt obligated to investigate. Inside the building, flashing lights and various sounds ricocheted around. (F/N) had never been in such a lively place before. Reluctantly, she stepped over the threshold and into the world of video games and crane machine. She needed to get closer to the shorter boy. It was her duty to make it out of this ‘date’ with a friend at the very least and a romantic partner at the most. ‘Boyfriend’ sounded to optimistic in a way.

Kuroo followed behind the tall girl, beckoning her into the bowels of the arcade. It was a complex maze of thieving machines. A maze that Kenma had been engulfed in. After five minutes of weaving between sweaty men and young children, the duo found Kenma. He stood, eyes sparkling with wonder, at a claw machine filled with pastel-coloured plushes.

Murmuring, he whipped out his wallet. “I’m winning her one…”

The machine jumped to life when the coin entered the slot. Ignoring the annoying song that the machine emitted, Kenma pressed his face to the glass, focusing on the one he thought (F/N) would like. A small cat plushie that was (F/C). Grabbing it half-heartedly by the head cause the claw to drop it seconds later. A few minutes soon turned into half an hour. Love pushed him into the losing battle of winning that toy. Kuroo had fallen asleep on a kid’s carousel while (F/N) won several prize draws at the counter. Stuffing the various items in her bag, she wandered back over to Kenma, who had nearly burned up half his wallet. Not hearing what Kenma said earlier, (F/N) thought the boy was intent on winning this toy for himself.

“…I could try and win it. If you want, that is.”

Receiving a nod in response, the girl assumed her position in front of the machine. Inserting the coin, she pointed towards the plushie he was trying to win earlier.

“You want this one, right?” Another nod in response.

The music started up once more. It became the bane of the setter’s existence. Kenma grew tense as the crane dangled over the stuffed toy. Frankly, he didn't have much faith in her getting the toy. If he couldn't do it, what chance would a beginner stand?  
Before he knew, the plush was being thrust in his face, a smiling girl holding it.  
He mentally cursed himself for underestimating her.

With a small giggle, (F/N) questioned the boy. “Well, aren't you going to take it?”

Kenma’s heat leapt into his throat. Letting out a short cough, he began to shake his head slightly. “I was trying to win it for you…”

The setter heard the girl acknowledge the last statement. Almost instantly afterwards, he was secured in a tight and warm hug. A waft of perfume made Kenma realise that this was not a dream or some surreal concept. This was real. (F/N) whispered a small thanks. They released each other. She turned to the machine once more, before inserting another coin.

Without breaking her gaze, she sternly told Kenma that she’ll win him twice as many to show her gratitude.

****************************************

A purple hue over took the orange sky. The crowds seemed less dense as the trio walked back to the station. (F/N) held dearly onto the plushie she had originally got. Kenma, on the other hand, was struggling to hold all of the plushes she had won throughout the course of the afternoon. Kuroo ambled alongside his friend, moaning about the crick in his back.

The setter only said. “It’s your fault. You shouldn't sleep in a carousel meant for people half your age.”

Sitting down the almost desolate train, Kenma shooed Kuroo away to another seat. (F/N) was confused and slightly startled by this gesture.    
“Where’s Kuroo going?”

Stuttering slightly, the boy managed to get out his confession. “I-I like you… A lot. And not in a friend way. So, would you go out with me?” After finishing the last word, Kenma’s gaze instantly fell on (F/N), who blushed on cue.

She couldn't manage to say yes. Instead, she nodded vigorously with a red hue consuming her face. The rest of the journey home was spent in a comfortable silence between the two, despite Kuroo appearing minutes later and forcing the two to hug. Kenma felt at ease when walking home, hands full with arcade toys. A cat plushie, much like the one (F/N) had, stared at Kenma with it’s plastic eyes. Smiling softly, the setter quickened his pace, in order to catch up with his best friend and his new girlfriend.


End file.
